I will never tire of being awed at the greening of trees. All of them are in bloom now, 'multiplied green' everywhere making familiar places brand new with their fanfares of foliage.
I was watching one late bloomer keenly from my window the past few weeks, waiting for its spindly branches to sprout green, every day observing carefully, trying to tally up any change. Then looked out one morning, and it was there, just like that, a bright lime green foliage waving in the air, that seemed to have popped up overnight. A metamorphosis is the only word for it alright!
Metamorphosis - May Sarton
Always it happens when we are not there -
The tree leaps up alive into the air,
Small open parasols of Chinese green
Wave on each twig. But who has ever seen
The latch sprung, the bud as it burst?
Spring always manages to get there first.
Lovers of wind, who will have been aware
Of a faint stirring in the empty air,
Look up one day through a dissolving screen
To find no star, but this multiplied green,
Shadow on shadow, singing sweet and clear.
Listen, lovers of wind, the leaves are here!